


Something Wicked (This Way Comes)

by KatieHavok



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Subspecies (1991)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BAMF Newt Scamander, Dracula Influence/References, F/M, Halloween 2017, Horror, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Literary References & Allusions, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Pretentious, Protective Tina Goldstein, Radu Being Radu, Smut, Suspense, Vampires, Why Did I Write This?, You Don't Need To Be Familiar with Subspecies To Read This
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok
Summary: He squeezes her reassuringly before going on. “You’re with me, and he owes me a favor. Besides that, they know we are coming, and Michelle would sooner leave him staked to the ground at dawn than allow a single hair on our head to come to harm. We are as safe as we can be, Tina.”





	Something Wicked (This Way Comes)

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to be familiar with the "Subspecies" universe for this to make sense, but to wit: the story revolves a vampire named Radu who is in love with a woman named Michelle. She spurns him at every turn while learning what she can from him, and there's a large contingency of the fandom—myself included—who think they'd actually be okay together.
> 
> I've wanted to write a crossover with these two universes for a while, so I'm glad I finally got the chance!

*

“We need to visit my vault before we leave,” Newt says, speaking around the wand in his mouth. “Please don’t let me forget, darling.”

Tina looks up from where she’s folding her favorite blouse, blinking at him confusedly. “What?”

“The vault, Tina,” Newt repeats patiently, retrieving his wand and thumbing away a tiny runnel of saliva. “We should bring our host a gift and I have just the thing, only it’s locked away at Gringotts so…”

“So we need to go there,” Tina teases, and throws a balled up pair of socks at him. “Well, why didn’t you just _say_ so?”

“I believe I _did_ ,” Newt argues back, but gently. “He has a proclivity for shiny things, and I figure that when dealing with his—his _kind_ , it’s always better to approach diplomatically. Even if he owes me a favor.”

“Is there anyone on any continent who _doesn’t_?” Tina asks rhetorically while shoving a pair of stockings into their suitcase.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Newt says, and Tina laughs when he sends a pillow sailing her way.

*

They’ve barely stepped out of the International Floo hearth when Newt turns to Tina to cover her hair with a large, colorful scarf, tucking the edges into her collar before examining her critically.

“Good,” he decides, the torchlights glinting in his eyes. “We mustn’t step on social customs while we are here, remember.” Another minute adjustment, then, “Can you see from the corner of your eyes, darling?”

Tina rolls her eyes to all quarters before nodding. Newt flashes a quick smile while taking his place in front of her, allowing her to hold his elbow as they navigate the Palace of Justice to the congested streets of Bucharest, where Newt seamlessly integrates them into the foot traffic. He is entirely in his element here in the unknown, face swiveling toward the magnificent architecture as he greets locals in their native tongue, securing directions to the train station as Tina watches, clinging to his hand.

“We’re all right now, I think,” he says when they step onto the train platform and touches her cheek. “But leave the scarf on just in case, since we _are_ walking into a religious festival of sorts.”

She glances down at the artful way the tassels drape across her chest and shoulders and grins. “I kinda like it,” she admits. “It keeps my ears warm.”

Newt laughs and kisses the tip of her nose. “It looks very charming on you, too,” he admits, ears turning pink. “It—it brings out your eyes.”

Tina scoffs playfully, but she can’t help her cheeks heating in a blush. Even now, after all these years, a compliment from him _still_ has that power over her. “Thank you,” she murmurs and is rewarded with a slow, tender smile that lingers all the way to the ticketing booth.

*

“I’m certain we could get out and _run_ faster than this,” Newt grouses as the sun slants orange and gold through the passing trees.

Tina looks up from her book— _Dracula_ by Bram Stoker—to find him staring moodily out the window, open field journal lying forgotten in his lap. She blinks before marking her place and taking his hand, soothingly petting his scarred knuckles.

“This train _is_ pretty ancient,” she grants. “Why are we even on it? Surely there’s a faster way to get there!”

“There is,” Newt says, “quite. But it’s a sign of respect to refrain from using magic on Vladislas land until we’ve formally introduced ourselves to our hosts.”

She slants her eyebrow at him, book forgotten. “Is this all Vladislas land, then? All of Romania?”

“Most of it,” Newt replies and turns to look at her in the failing light. “It’s not as powerful here, between Bucharest and Prejmer, but yes. We are in his territory.” He exhales sharply before scooting across the tiny aisle to sit next to her, sliding a comfortable arm around her waist.

“Perhaps it’s not so bad after all,” he murmurs, and kisses her temple. “I quite like the opportunity to be close to you.”

“Flatterer,” Tina teases and kisses the hinge of his jaw. “Careful, or we may be too distracted to properly greet our host. Hosts. Whatever.”

“I think you’ll find that won’t be a problem,” Newt says seriously and nuzzles her cheek. “Just...stay by my side, and you’ll be fine. You’re an Auror, remember?”

“You’re making me feel _so_ much better,” Tina deadpans in response and slaps his thigh. “Come on, tell me about him. You’ve given me his name and nothing else. What are we walking into, Newt?”

Newt tips his head back, staring at the ceiling of the train car as if it holds the answer. “I know him from the war,” he says, “but that isn’t even true. I met him _during_ the war, but I know him from before and after. The name of his family is tied into local legend, along with a few others.” He nudges her book, exhaling slowly before tipping his head to the side, his face suddenly exhausted. “He’s the one who taught me—all of us, really—to handle dragons.”

Tina sits up straighter. “Really?”

“Yes,” Newt says. “He has an affinity with beasts, though you wouldn’t know it to look at him.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “It could be because they recognize that he is no threat to them, or maybe it’s an inborn trait. Either way, he taught me a lot about tracking, though that’s a story for another day.”

“Spoilsport.” Tina pouts while rubbing her hand over his thigh, hoping to distract Newt from the distant look in his eye. “How dangerous is he?”

Newt tips his chin to look at her, an unexpected bump in the tracks bringing them almost close enough to kiss. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes when he traces the outline of her lips with his thumb. “I can’t say for sure,” he admits in a low voice. “He was quite lethal when I first met him, but after he took up with his consort...she tamed him. Made him more humane in all the ways that count.”

He squeezes her reassuringly before going on. “You’re with me, and he owes me a favor. Besides that, they know we are coming, and Michelle would sooner leave him staked to the ground at dawn than allow a single hair on our head to come to harm. We are as safe as we can be, Tina.”

Tina curls closer to him when the electric lights in the cabin illuminate without warning, casting everything in a sickly yellow glow. “What about her,” she asks, her lips pressed to his collar. “Is she as dangerous as he is?”

Newt smiles, his eyes twinkling in the poor light. “I can’t say,” he says and squeezes her gently. “ Can you just trust me in this, Tina? I think you’ll like her, I really do. Just...relax. Enjoy the ride and the scenery, and the good company. Please don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she lies quickly, and know she’s called out when Newt raises a single eyebrow. She blushes until his fingers cradle her jaw, his nose touching hers.

“I can distract you, I think,” he whispers, and her eyes flutter closed when he closes the gap between them, putting her mouth to much better use.

*

The Festival of the Undead is in full swing by the time Newt and Tina debark the train.

It’s less than a mile from the platform to the mountain hill that marks the start of the castle proper, and Newt puts a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from crossing the boundary into the crouching village. Tina watches him stoop to open their suitcase, withdrawing two small but elaborately decorated domino masks before handing one to her.

“As if the scarf weren’t bad enough,” she huffs, but there’s no heat behind her words, and the mask is surprisingly comfortable. Newt grins at her from beneath the exaggerated beak adorning the front of his own disguise, and she experiences her first fissure of excitement as he escorts her into the heart of the festival.

“Stay alert,” he tells her from the side of his mouth, his hand warm in hers. “And remember that non-magical and magical humans intermingle freely here. Bloodlines are twisted and crossed because of centuries of isolation. American laws don’t apply.”

Tina opens her mouth to argue the point, only to stop when a woman off to the side catches her eye. She is remarkable in that she is the only person here without a mask; that, and she seems to walk with a predator’s unconscious grace, her chin raised in the air as she cooly surveys her surroundings. Tina grips her wand, only to pivot on the ball of her foot when the stranger dissolves into shadow before reforming behind them, less than ten feet away.

“Ah,” Newt says, hand clamping around Tina’s forearm as he peels off his mask. He turns to face the newcomer head-on, ducking his head while squeezing Tina in warning. “Good evening, Your Majesty.”

The woman lifts her eyebrows. “Traveler,” she says in acknowledgment to Newt’s greeting, before shifting her attention to Tina. “I see you’ve brought your consort. I hope you’ve prepared her for what to expect while she’s here.”

Newt slides an arm around her shoulder as the familiar prick of Legilimency spreads throughout her brain. Tina can only focus on one thing despite the intrusion, and her jaw falls open when she yanks off her mask to blurt the words that would set the tone for this and all future meetings with the remaining clan of Vladislas:

“Wait—you’re _American_?!”

*

The woman introduces herself as Michelle Morgan, Queen Consort to vampire King Radu and titular head of the Vladislas holdings, and allows Newt—and a hesitant Tina—to make obeisance before escorting them to the castle.

“You really don’t need to worry,” Michelle tells Tina in cool tones as they climb up and up and up.“He will treat you both well. I promise.”

Tina hasn’t said anything aloud, and the urge to tell Michelle to get out of her head is almost overwhelming—but she’s certain that would go over about as well as a lead balloon and so she says nothing, showing a tight smile before taking Newt’s hand. “Thank you,” she manages and looks away from that stern, predatory gaze before quickening her pace.

Newt and Michelle make conversation like old friends, catching up as they stride their way ahead of a panting Tina before stopping to wait for her. “He’s changed,” she overhears Michelle say as she struggles to catch up. “You’ll see. I had feared that the Bloodstone would twist him, but we haven’t needed to feed on a human in _years_ , and he’s much calmer now.” She shows a pointy smile. “I believe you returning the sword of Laertes to him may have had something to do with that. Now we have no external threats, and the humans love us.”

“Does he remember the favor he promised me?” Newt asks bluntly, nervous fingers twitching at his side.

“Yes,” Michelle tells him. “He remembers.” She turns her head to watch Tina close the distance between them, and Tina feels as though her words are directed at her. “Your consort...she’s very pretty. But—sad. Does she always guard herself against you?”

Tina opens her mouth to voice a hot rejoinder, only to snap it closed when Newt wides his eyes at her. “Tina here is an Auror and our country is on the verge of war,” he tells Michelle, putting very subtle emphasis on the title. “She’s rather used to playing her cards close to the chest, I’m afraid.”

Michelle shows another smile, this one broader and marginally warmer. “You always have had a taste for dangerous women haven’t you, traveler,” she says, and Tina gapes at her elegant back as blood slams into Newt’s face, putting his freckles in stark relief.

“Not much further now,” Michelle says over her shoulder, and Tina tosses Newt a furious look before stomping after her.

*

“It’s not what you think,” Newt says quietly a short time later.

Tina looks up from where she’s examining a cobwebby skeleton interred in a recessed wall to glare at him. The skeleton wears a medallion emblazoned with a dragon snarling beneath the symbol of the cross around its neck, and she focuses on that as her jaw clenches. “I’m sure it’s not,” she bites out, “but I’m also sure you didn’t tell me about it for a reason.”

“That’s right,” Newt says evenly. “I had a very good reason: I forgot it happened.”

She scoffs, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to break off a femur and beat him about the head with it. “You forgot?” she echoes bitterly, whirling on him to allow her hurt to pour out. “Of _course_ you forgot—I mean, she’s only _beautiful_ and _regal_ and oh yeah, _a queen_ . But yeah, sure. You _forgot_.”

“I did,” Newt maintains, watching her steadily. “She is all of those things and more—and I had precisely zero interest in her when she was offered to me.”

“ _Then why would she bring it up?!_ ” Tina shouts, meanly loving the way the words echo around the stones of the castle.

“Because this is how it is with dominant females,” Newt says calmly. “You are both going to strut and preen and make grand displays until one of you folds, or you decide to peacefully cohabitate.” He takes a deep breath before hesitantly stepping closer, one hand raised in a calming gesture. “Think for a moment, Tina.” He gestures to himself: unkempt hair and too-short trousers, battered boots and threadbare greatcoat. “Do you truly think I could capture and hold the attention of a queen for any length of time?” Then, softer: “Do you really hold me in such low regard as to think I’d intentionally keep something like that from you? She’s _testing_ you, love.”

Tina winces when his words hit home, causing her shoulders to sag as she turns to face him. “No,” she admits, and takes a careful deep breath. “I know you wouldn’t do that, Newt. I _know_ it.”

Newt takes another step closer, threading his fingers through hers. “I’m glad you recognize that,” he says without a trace of humor, and reaches up to push her hair aside. His touch is gentle, and she bites her lip when tears prickle her eyes. Newt makes a low, soothing sound before carding his fingers through her hair.

“Michelle has the advantage of magic that neither you nor I can understand,” he whispers and presses a kiss to her jaw. “But _you_ have the advantage of faith: in yourself, in your abilities, and in me. _Please_ don’t forget that, Tina.”

“I never did have much faith in myself,” she says in a cracked whisper. “You know that.”

“I have faith enough in you for the both of us, then,” Newt murmurs, and kisses her fleetingly.

Tina snuffles and scrubs at her eyes before managing a wobbly smile. “I’ll try,” she says. “I just...I can’t let her get into my head, can I?”

“Well, physically, she’ll have no problems,” Newt says in scholarly tones, “but as long as you don’t—don’t take it to _heart_ , you should be fine.”

“That is wise advice,” a hoarse, somehow ancient voice chimes in behind them. Newt’s shoulders tense when he holds Tina’s eyes for a long moment before turning. He moves to take a slightly protective stance in front of her, and Tina rocks onto tiptoes to look over his shoulder as Michelle watches them regally from the side.

A man steps into the flickering torchlight, his long hair shot through with gold and auburn. He’s smiling but it sits like a grimace on his cold, marble visage, his mouth seemingly propped open by the heavy tusks of his fangs. He’s shorter than she expected, looking up at them from the inky pools of his eyes. The heavy wrinkles in his nose, the cruelly confident set of his shoulders tells Tina that _this_ is an apex predator who delights in his power, someone who knows his limits and the limits of his prey, and revels in testing them.

Yet, for all his malevolence, there’s something nearly benign in the way he tips his head back to look up at them, his long leather jerkin catching the light. “Traveler,” he rasps in greeting, his grotesquely long fingers spreading over his narrow chest. “You return to us at last.” The man-creature looks past Newt to Tina, his smile spreading. She almost expects his skin to crack like leather when his eyes crinkle. “And you’ve brought your Pretty One with you.”

Newt takes a deep breath, looking at Tina from the extreme corner of his eye before stepping forward. She watches with a gaping mouth as he throws his shoulders back, lifting his chin before genuflecting. He drapes his forearm across his bent knee while bowing his head, his palm planted in the heavy flagstones. This posture exposes the vulnerable nape of his neck, and Tina recognizes the symbolism of the gesture when the vampire glides forward to drag his talons the length of Newt’s skull.

“You only return to ask us a favor,” the creature says, circling him menacingly, black lips curling around his words as he presses a single finger into the knob of Newt’s cervical vertebrae. “Would it have been such a burden to pay us a pleasure visit?”

“I haven’t been on the continent in years, Your Majesty,” Newt says in an even tone. “I apologize for not returning sooner, but I’ve been quite busy.”

“So we’ve heard. A book, if I recall.” The creature—Radu—slides his eyes over Tina before stepping back, freeing Newt from his hold. “Your mate watches me as if I were a threat, and she a shield,” he muses, returning to Michelle’s side. “You have chosen well. Rise, traveler, with our blessing.”

Newt lifts his head before climbing to his feet, keeping his eyes averted when he shuffles back to Tina. She embraces him on instinct, never taking her eyes off the vampires watching them avidly. “I’m alright,” Newt murmurs when she squeezes him, his voice surprisingly steady. “I warned you, didn’t I? We aren’t dealing with strictly human social customs here.”

“I don’t care,” Tina whispers fiercely. “Did you really have to do that? Expose yourself to attack that way? He could have hurt you, Newt!”

“But he didn’t,” Newt argues back, taking her hands in both of his and sharing a warm smile. “And that’s precisely the point. Remember what I said about dominant females?” He waits until she hesitantly nods before going on, lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. “Well, surely you recognize that it is the same for males, regardless of species?” Newt shrugs, ears turning faintly pink. “I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve never been shy about showing my belly, as it were.”

“You are _insane_ ,” Tina hisses, but the words are drowned out by a grating sound from the across the room.

They turn as one to find Radu laughing, his dark eyes backlit by unholy glee when he reaches for Michelle, his fingers twining around hers. Michelle, for her part, looks distinctly amused, and she tosses Tina a sickle-thin grin before turning to her mate.

“You truly _have_ chosen well, traveler,” Radu tells Newt, and the warmth in his voice causes Tina to blink in astonishment. “Keep her close or you may find yourself losing her to something a bit more... _permanent_.” Michelle shifts, glaring at Radu from the corner of her eye. Tina gasps when the full significance of Newt’s warning comes to her.

 

_Oh_ , she thinks, and steps closer to him, until his back is a line of warmth against her front.

“My name is Tina,” she says in a low but firm voice, taking a cue from Newt and careful to hold Radu’s gaze for only a moment. “And I’m very glad you approve of me.” She cuts her eyes to Michelle for a fraction of a second, relieved when the other woman relaxes, before putting her arm possessively around Newt. Newt reaches across his body to squeeze her fingers, his jaw flexing in her extreme peripheral vision as they turn as one to face the vampire couple.

“The peasant festival is in full swing,” Radu says after a beat, the silvery wash of moonlight turning his face into carved stone. “Come. Dine with us, and we’ll share stories. I imagine there is much to know.” He looks at them cannily before turning away, the ancient leather of his tall boots creaking. “I imagine it’s the rumors of a dragon that’s brought you to our abode, is it not?”

Newt shrugs before pushing a kiss to her temple, taking her hand. “Well, he’s not wrong,” he murmurs and manages a weak smile while leading Tina deeper into the castle, a silent Michelle trailing them.

*

The queen shows them to their quarters after supper, a plush but dusty suite set atop the highest tower. “This room sees daylight first,” she explains, eying Tina. “You should feel safe here.”

Tina shows a brittle smile as Newt thanks their host. Michelle has barely crossed the threshold before Tina is casting her strongest wards and protective charms, blanketing the room with every safeguard she can recall. “There,” she says finally, glancing around at her handiwork with satisfaction. “That’s...better.”

“You realize that won’t keep them out if they _want_ to get in, don’t you?” Newt asks, waving his wand in elegant patterns to banish the dust. He smiles apologetically when Tina wilts. “This castle is imbued with centuries of Vladislas magic. We are the foreigners here. I imagine Michelle and Radu are having quite the laugh at our expense right now.”

“Let them,” Tina says fiercely, transferring her wand holster to her inner wrist as she shrugs out of her blouse. “Warding the room makes _me_ feel better.”

Newt captures her lips in a kiss that starts slow but quickly gains traction. “Perhaps we should find a better outlet for your frustration, then,” he murmurs against her mouth when they part, her fingernails digging into his sides.

“Do you think they’ll hear us?” Tina asks, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Newt groans when she finally gives up, yanking the fabric open before latching her mouth to the flange of his collarbone.

“I don’t—I don’t really know,” he admits in a strained voice, “but I do believe it is prudent for you to be as _loud_ as possible, Tina.”

She looks up at him with a smirk before murmuring a spell. His trousers loosen and peel off his legs, taking his underwear with them as she kicks off her bottoms, leaving them a crumpled pile on the floor. Her foundation garments are quick to follow as Newt palms one of her bare breasts, his mouth wrapped around the other with wordless need as he crowds her toward the bed.

He lays her back gently, bathing her in moonlight, though his touch is anything _but_ gentle when he maps her body. The scrape of his teeth over her skin, along her inner thigh, and the bend of her knee is enough to make her moan liquidly, twisting her fingers in his hair. His hands come to center, cupping and rubbing as she shivers beneath him until he covers her with his mouth, drawing his tongue in delicate flicks over her most sensitive spots. The tension has been building all afternoon and evening, craving an outlet, so it doesn’t take much for her to find release, scaling the peak and shouting his name at the top of it.

Newt lifts his head with a satisfied smirk, dragging his damp, musty lips the length of her body before settling between her thighs. They kiss, all tongue and sharp teeth as she guides him inside, arching her back to change the angle of his thrusts when he latches onto her neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave bruises. Friction and Newt’s insistent hands combine to spur her over the edge, trembling as Newt murmurs her name and winds his fingers through her hair.

He slows their frantic pace when she comes down, gasping into his shoulder as he rains kisses on her face. A wolf howls from without, piercing the night, and Newt pushes himself up to look down at her thoughtfully. “ _Listen to them, the children of the night_ ,” he quotes, and ignores Tina’s bereft whine when he withdraws from her body, helping her turn. He directs her gently but firmly, and Tina gasps her delight when she ends up on hands and knees, her rear jutting toward him as he cradles her hips.

“I believe the wolves have the right idea,” he purrs, licking a damp trail over her spine before nipping at the peak of her shoulder blade. Tina backs into him in answer, meeting him halfway with a thick groan. One of his hands clamps around her hip, the other squeezing her breast as they set a hard pace, flesh coming together to the background music of gasps and moans, interspersed with the howl of the beasts outside their window.

Tina loses the fight with gravity, her upper half collapsing onto the mattress as she fists the sheets. She sinks her teeth into the pillow, moaning when Newt’s fingers find her aching center, circling to give her the final push she needs. She trembles over the edge, feeling the deep quivers in her thighs as she clenches around him. His name tumbles from her mouth, loud and uninhibited and filling the room when Newt shivers at her back. He voices a low growl, and something very like triumph surges through Tina when he goes still, the primal echo of his release making her gasp in delight.

Newt says her name, sounding absolutely wrecked. He straightens but doesn’t withdraw, holding them together as his hands rhythmically knead the small of her back. Tina turns her head to grin up at him, finding him watching her through heavy-lidded eyes.

“We’d make a pretty picture,” she muses aloud, and Newt nods as if he understands before kissing her spine and working his careful way out of her. They share a sigh at the loss of body warmth, and he cradles her ankle before urging her onto her back, ensuring she’s comfortably reclined over the pillows.

Newt uses his fingers and mouth to clean her up, dropping a series of kisses along her inner thigh before crawling over her. They embrace with a kiss, and she tastes their combined fluids on his tongue while drawing the blankets over them both.

“This is a nice bed,” he mumbles when he closes his eyes, his head tucking into the notch between her neck and shoulder.

“I think you only like it because of what we just did,” she teases and grins when he hums agreement before sliding his arm around her.

“Can you blame me?” Newt asks, swirling his tongue over her collarbone. “I’m sure the entire village knows what we were just up to, besides.” He cracks an eye to look up at her, undeniably amused. “You’re really quite _loud_ when you want to be, did you know?”

Tina covers her flaming face with her hand as he chuckles, his breath warm on her skin. “I didn’t even notice,” she says honestly.

“That’s all right,” Newt mumbles around a yawn, closing his eyes once more. “I asked for it, didn’t I? And you rose to the occasion remarkably well. Good show, Miss Goldstein.”

“Flatterer,” Tina mumbles and is rewarded with a chuckle as Newt settles deeper into her, his breathing growing long and slow when he descends into sleep. “Goodnight, Newt.”

She gets little more than a half-formed mumble in reply. Smiling, Tina takes him more firmly in her arms before closing her eyes, listening to the music of the wolves wind down as dawn creeps inexorably closer.

*

They rise at noon to explore the castle.

Newt and Tina make plans as they ramble the structure, carefully climbing up and down and back up again while formulating the best way to reach their quarry.

“I mean, it’s a dragon,” Tina says as they pick methodically through an underground cavern, loud with the sound of running water. “How difficult can it be to find?”

“You may be surprised,” Newt murmurs, craning his head back to look up at the ceiling and squinting into the darkness. “I wonder what this space was used for. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s the perfect place to keep a dragon…”

“The castle has always had mortal workers,” a voice rings out behind them, as dusty as the grave.

They turn as one to find Radu standing a few paces away, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he traces the sloped ceiling with his eyes. “Back in the days before the heathen invaders, this place was used as a laundry and for storing various potables.” He shifts to move closer, eyes coming to land on them. “After, it was a prison, and now...only a ruin.”

“I wouldn’t call it a ruin,” Tina murmurs without thinking, her chest tightening anxiously when Radu turns a ruthlessly polite expression on her. She focuses on the rusty iron manacles hammered into the wall to avoid his gaze. “I mean, this place is...it’s _incredible_ , but it’s not really a _ruin_.”

She feels a prick in her mind, the brush of Radu’s consciousness against hers, and does her best to hide her instinctive revulsion. While Michelle’s thought reading was almost familiar, Radu’s is alien and strange, as different as their species. He ducks his head to look at her from beneath the ridge of his eyebrows with a smirk, obviously sensing her discomfort, before abruptly withdrawing.

“There were never any dragons in the castle hold,” he tells Tina, striding past them with an imperious sniff, “though I can’t say the same for the mountains.”

Newt’s eyebrows bury themselves in his hair at the provocative statement, excitedly meeting Tina’s eyes until she nods to confirm that yes, she heard it too. They hold hands as they trot to catch up to him, letting the firm line of Radu’s shoulders be their guide as they climb toward the surface.

*

Radu and Newt are bent over an ancient map sometime later, discussing mountain passes and strategy while Tina performs a lackluster circuit of the room. There’s a small alcove containing dusty tomes just behind a throne-like chair, and she curiously reaches for one until a voice rings out.

“Be careful with those,” Michelle says from behind her, startling her badly. “Some of them are pretty nasty.”

“Oh,” Tina mumbles, withdrawing her hand to eye the books warily. “Are they...Dark?”

Michelle frowns while reaching past her, withdrawing a thick volume with a molded, curiously wrinkled cover. The lettering is in a language that Tina doesn’t recognize, the words seeming to flicker in and out of view the longer she stares. She looks away with a grimace as Michelle slots the book back into place.

“That one is bound in human skin, and written in the language of the dead,” she explains, wiping her hands on the front of her elaborate gown. “So yes, I guess you could say that they _are_ dark, though I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean.”

“This whole place would be considered Dark, where I’m from,” Tina explains flatly, no longer concerned with politeness as a sooty torch sends smoke into her eyes, making them water. “We don’t allow vampires in America, or mixed breeding, and _especially_ not Dark magic.”

“I understand that because I was American, once,” Michelle says evenly, threading her cooler arm through Tina’s to lead her onto a moon-drenched rampart. Tina catches Newt’s eye, who nods with an encouraging smile before turning to Radu with a question. Hardly fortified, Tina fingers her wand as she and Michelle lean against a parapet, the Queen the picture of relaxed elegance when she looks down the castle hill to the lights of the village, still loud with holdover celebrants.

“Radu knows fear,” Michelle says, apropos of nothing when the silence has spun out between them. She looks at Tina from the corner of her eye before fingering the new _colliers de chien_ adorning her neck. Tina’s eyes widen when she recognizes it as the very same one Newt had brought with them, humbly gifting it to Radu the previous evening. Michelle smiles, and the simple humanity in the gesture is enough to make Tina lower her wand hand, folding it neatly on the parapet.

  
“You wouldn’t think that looking at him,” Tina says, and winces internally at her own lack of tact. She opens her mouth to clarify, only to stare when Michelle tosses her head back and laughs, the sound carrying on the still night air.

“You’re right,” Michelle agrees, sounding absolutely delighted. “To look at him, you’d think that he only knew fear through his victims—the people he fed on and killed over the centuries to ensure his own survival.” She pushes a strand of curly hair back, expression suddenly pensive when she turns to Tina. “But that isn’t true at all, and it took me _years_ to understand that because the thing he fears most is _himself_.”

Tina recalls her ‘mixed breeding’ comment with dismay, nervously worrying the hem of her blouse between her fingers while avoiding Michelle’s sharp gaze. “I’m sorry,” she blurts, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s not _me_ you offended,” Michelle says evenly. “Radu—he cannot help _what_ he is, only _who_ he is, and that is a lesson that has taken him a long time to learn.” A heavy pause to emphasize the point, then, “He credits me with most of that, and I agree to an extent. But he did the work himself. I only helped him see it through to the end.”

“I really am very sorry,” Tina repeats. “Newt—he says the same thing about me, and I’m trying, I am—but the world is big and I’m very small and I wonder how much I can grow to effect change in the world when it seems like I stumble at every opportunity.”

Michelle smiles suddenly, and Tina gasps when she’s pulled into an unexpected hug. Confused, she hugs her back, feeling the jacquard bodice of Michelle’s gown beneath her fingers, and experiences a flash of envy. The hug ends as abruptly as it began, and Michelle looks embarrassed when she says, “I’m sorry, you remind me of my sister and it’s been years since I’ve been able to hug her.”

“What happened to her?” Tina asks with a faint sense of dread.

“She’s dead,” Michelle says and rubs her throat as her gaze turns distant. “She was trying to save me. She tried to take me away from here, but they—she—they died while going down the mountain.”

Tina hates herself for thinking it, and attempts to occlude the thought before it takes root—but Michelle’s sharp gaze tells her she was unsuccessful, and she tries not to flinch when the queen’s eyes harden before turning away.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tina says, rubbing her arms. “But you should know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Michelle’s upper lip curls over her teeth in a snarl when she turns back to Tina. “And thinking that it’s _his_ fault is your solution?” she growls, her fingers twitching at her side. “I _brought_ her here. I _asked_ her to save me, even though I knew that it was impossible.” She clasps her trembling hands before going on, her eyes piercing. “In the end, Radu saved me when _no one else_ could, so I helped save him from himself in exchange. Somewhere along the way, maybe I grew to love him a little—but it is better for me, for _everyone_ , to stay here. Even if it means chaining myself to a monster.”

“He’s not a monster,” Tina says softly, closing her eyes as she recalls with new clarity everything Newt had told her about the Vladislas lineage and his time spent serving with Radu. “He is who and what he is, nothing more and nothing less. It’s ridiculous to fear him because he makes his own choices, just like you did.” She opens her eyes to find Michelle grinning at her, fangs on full display. “But you already knew that.”

“Yes,” Michelle says calmly. “So does your Newt. _You_ were the one who had to figure it out, and you could only do it for yourself.”

“Well, you could have just _told_ me,” Tina grumbles, but she’s thinking of Queenie when she says it, and Michelle laughs before taking her elbow.

“I think it’s almost time for you to leave,” she says, sounding mournful, “but I’m glad I got the chance to meet you, Tina.”

“I am too,” Tina says and is surprised to find that she means it.

*

Radu and Michelle escort them to the castle wall just before dawn.

“You will always have refuge here,” Radu tells Newt, who flushes happily while accepting what looks like an egg from the vampire before clasping his wrist in an ancient symbol of solidarity.

“I hope you come again,” Michelle tells Tina while pulling her into a hug. “I know you’re uncomfortable around us and I’m sorry for that, but please think about it.” She squeezes tight before releasing her, her eyes somber. “Radu and I, we are no threat to you, I swear it.”

Newt slides an arm around Tina’s waist when he joins them. “We’ll be back, I promise,” he says, and shows his warmest smile while ensuring that Tina’s headscarf is secure. “To let you know that we’ve found the dragon if nothing else.”

Michelle reaches into the pocket of her dress before pressing something small and metallic into Tina’s hand. “Good luck,” she whispers, and Newt and Tina stop only once to wave as they pass through the castle walls.

They hold hands as they make their way down the narrow mountain pass, stopping only when the sun is fully up and Tina can see the object Michelle gave her. “What do you think it means?” she asks, rolling the silver bauble between her fingers.

“I’m really not sure,” Newt murmurs, squinting at the dragon emblazoned on the face of the ring, it’s leathery wings spread beneath an almost preternaturally bright cross. He smiles when he passes it back to her, leaning in to kiss her forehead before taking her hand. “But perhaps you should consult that book you’re reading. See if it has any clues.”

“ _Dracula_ is a work of fiction, but the symbol looks familiar,” Tina muses, steering him toward the ticketing booth. “If anyone knows what it means, it would be the _real_ vampires. You know, like the ones we just left.”

“Well, _‘Dracula’_ does translate into _‘Son of the Dragon’_ , you know,” Newt says, and comes to an abrupt halt when an idea occurs to them at the same time.

“I saw this symbol up at the castle, on a skeleton,” Tina says slowly, feeling her fingertips tingle. “Do you think it’s possible…?”

“No,” Newt says, eyes wide. “I mean, Radu has alluded to it in the past, but I chalked it up to local tall-tales!”

Tina nods but can’t seem to prevent her fingers from clutching the throat of her scarf, shivering in a sudden, cold breeze. “It’s just myths and legends,” she says bravely, wrapping the bravado of her Auror facade around her like a shield. “The Order of the Dragon doesn’t exist anymore, Dracula himself never _did_ , and we’re jumping at shadows.” She tugs his arm when he falters, meeting his eyes. “Now come on. Let’s go find your dragon once and for all, _together_. Just like we planned.”

“Yes, of course, darling,” Newt murmurs, but she doesn’t miss the way he averts his eyes at the last second, just as she can’t seem to chase away the specter of her gift.

They are quiet and somber when they board the train, steaming deeper into the piney heart of Romania—the land still called Transylvania by locals—with their fingers tightly woven as they rush toward the unknown.

*

**Author's Note:**

> The war Newt and Radu speak of is, of course, WWI. The "heathen invaders" would be the incursion of the Byzantine Empire into Wallachia during the late middle ages. This was a time when a certain prince named Vlad Țepeș, better known as "Vlad the Impaler" or "Vlad Dracula (Son of the Dragon)" gained a certain amount of, shall we say, notoriety. And yes, the Order of the Dragon was a real order, and Vlad Tepes was a member of that club...
> 
> Interestingly, per the "Subspecies" comic books, Radu Vladislas was sent by his father to fight against the Turks. If we take this as canon, then it explains a lot about the Radu we meet in the movies.
> 
> Finally...let's not think about the timeline conflict inherent to these two universes meeting, okay? We can either pretend that Newt and Tina jump forward in time once they enter Prejmer, or Radu and Michelle skip back in time. Whatever strikes your fancy!


End file.
